[Not a political post]
I have been known to say I didn’t marry a man, I married a garden. It’s true. Previous wife had all the lawn ripped out and spent ludicrous amounts of money on a “low maintenance” yard, which included exotic bushes, shrubs and trees.
Low maintenance, my horse’s patoot. That yard is more work than imagineable. Every weed is visible, so it requires a constant vigilance (note that I am making it sound as though I am nobly succeeding). The kids know if we get out of the car and I am slow making it to the house, it is because I have 2 handfuls of weeds and am headed for the yard waste bin.
Steve gets hayfever when he works in the yard too much; there was even a time before he met me when the neighbors banded together to whip the yard into shape as it had gone neglected for too long. Since we moved here, the job has fallen primarily on me, with assists from the kids.
I struggle with 1) hating yard work 2) not knowing how to prune most of these items and 3) not having what appear to be the right tools for a large part of the job. I am frequently overwhelmed by the enormity of “making it look good,” when “it” is such a large job.
The deck came off the house on Tuesday. It’s a good thing. We had been waiting for all the stars to align, and the gods of permitting to give us their red stamp of approval since December 24th of last year. After all the waiting, demolition was completed in under 3 hours, the dumpster was picked up same day and a sort of eerie spaciousness settled outside our southern windows.
Next step for the contractor was the footings, and he needed the foliage overgrowth in that area cut back to ground level so he could dig, rebar and concrete, doing it all without having to hold back nature’s freshest. Hurridly, because the next day was yard waste pick up, I grabbed the loppers and started pruning as best I could. It became apparent quickly this was not going to be fast enough, and I couldn’t get it all the way to the ground without a little bit more muscle. I asked Steve for his reciprocating saw.
Can I just say it felt good, no, wonderful would be a more adequate description? I was under orders not to trim and maintain, but to level. It was easy. I didn’t need to know what kind of plant and how best to pamper it. More importantly, when it grows back, as I have been assured it will, the trimming will be on a much smaller plant; I only have to maintain!
I am looking forward to next spring, although if you drop by and want to pull a few weeds, feel free.